


Temporary Bliss

by Foiblefull



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Highschool AU, M/M, References some neglect, Relationships don't really come in til later, Slight swearing, So kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foiblefull/pseuds/Foiblefull
Summary: Virgil Storm can fend for himself. He always has. And yet, he finds himself maybe making some new and unique (to put it nicely) friends after a terrifying move to a new school.





	1. The Last Day

**Author's Note:**

> Ta da. Hope you can enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil goes through his last day at his hell hole of a school and then gets thrown into a whole new hellish situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A multi-chapter story? Wowza, look at me go.

Bliss. Virgil feels bliss. His first few waking moments are the only moments he ever feels any semblance of pleasantness or contentment, and maybe that’s because he isn’t really awake enough to feel anything at all. However these peaceful moments are only those: moments. Virgil’s eyes snap open, and he rolls onto his back with a resigned groan as he remembers, well, everything. He eventually drags himself out of bed and to the ever-present, small pile of clothing on the floor. As he pulls on his signature black jeans, shirt, and hoodie, he happens to glance up and catch his own eye in the small mirror that hangs across his room on the wall. He puffs out a small sigh as he catches sight of the large and - as of late - not uncommon dark black circles under his eyes. Originally, he had just been experimenting with eyeliner and such, but due to him only using cheap brands, it always seemed to run and smear and highlight the slightly less noticeable dark circles that were already there. So now he just leaves it, sometimes even applying eye shadow to enhance his “dark” and “threatening” persona, which he hoped would maybe deter annoying people from talking to him. And so he continues his normal morning routine: grabbing his headphones, phone, backpack, and random assignments from his room before heading to the bathroom, and then through the kitchen, pausing only long enough to grab a pack of pop tarts and his keys lying on the counter before heading out the door. He quickly plugs in his headphones and places them over his ears before starting his current favorite playlist. The crisp autumn wind sets him shivering despite his hoodie. Virgil likes fall and winter, but he could really do without the extra cold, he thinks. As he walks, he begins to go through a mental checklist for his day. Math homework, check; history questions, check; English essay, check? His steps slow as he thinks frantically about what papers he had sleepily scooped into his bag not that long ago. He comes to a complete stop and takes off his backpack to check; he can't afford to get a zero. He sighs in relief as he catches sight of the title of his essay within his cluttered bag, and he zips it up, and keeps walking. And yet, just a few minutes later he scrambles to open his bag again as his mind chants _Are you sure you saw it? Weren't there some more papers on your desk when you left? What if you only have the first page?_ To his immense relief, he manages to dig out all the pages of his slightly wrinkled essay, and - because he's learned from experience - he decides to carry all the pages in his arms where he can see them. However, now that the worries about his essay have ceased, Virgil begins to feel anxious about being late, so he quickens his pace. 

As Virgil enters his school, he feels a rush of panic, but he quickly takes several breaths and reminds himself that this happens every day. He's been beat up before sure, it's pretty common actually, but what's almost more painful is his social status: the outcast. The weird kid. He feels it in the stares, he hears his name in whispered conversations that cease when they notice his presence, he senses it in the side glances, the snickers when he runs into someone, the disbelief when he once again comes out as top of the class. Students avoid him like the plague. The desks surrounding him in class stay empty; he sits alone at lunch; he hardly ever speaks through the eight hour school day; he can count on one hand how many words he says to other students during the school week. He wonders if they'd hate him more if they knew he was gay too. He chuckles as he imagines their reactions. But despite his normal burst of panic, today Virgil Storm feels confident. Today Virgil Storm decides to go out with a bang. Today Virgil Storm meets the eyes of his classmates and pulls his headphones down so they're around his neck. Today Virgil Storm is his smartass, sarcastic, pissed off self. Today Virgil Storm goes through his last day at this place he's called hell for years.

As he goes through his classes, Virgil actually raises his hand and answers questions. He raises his hand for. Every. Single. Question. Because screw all the kids in his class who think they're smart. And when people start whispering and glaring, he glares right back and hisses. The boy he hissed at stares at him, shocked and speechless. At this point, the bell rings and Virgil gets to punctuate his behavior by making a dramatic exit, the bewildered boy staring after him. As soon as he gets out of sight, Virgil’s confident smile slips and he runs. He runs to the only place he feels safe, his English teacher's classroom. His teacher long ago learned to just leave him be and let him sit, which is why he actually likes her. He reaches her classroom, pulls on his headphones and breathes. “What was I thinking,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair after he manages to stave off the beginnings of a panic attack. He almost feels bad, after all, he doesn't even know that kid. “Well at least I'll never have to talk to him again,” he muses, “ but I suppose I should say goodbye to Ms. Koch.” At this thought he glances over to where his English teacher sits quietly, grading. He approaches her desk slowly, and she looks up in surprise but quickly smiles at him. “Can I help you?” she questions. “Um, well, I just wanted to tell you that I, uh, I’mleavingthisschooland goingsomewhereelseandI’llmissyoubutyou’retheonlypersonthatknowssodon’ttelllanyone.” Virgil pauses, embarrassed, to take a breath, and Ms. Koch takes advantage of the pause to add her own words. “I’ll miss you too Virgil, and they already told all your teachers you were leaving. This is for you.” She hands him a book: Macbeth. “Oh, well then, yeah. So, bye I guess.” Virgil turns to leave, but before he can get out the door, his teacher pulls him into a brief hug. After he awkwardly extracts himself, Virgil flees the safety of her room for the last time, book in hand, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.

Upon arriving home, Virgil’s parents - as expected - still aren't home. His house, however, looks even more barren and empty than usual, as some of the furniture is already missing and most other knickknacks have already been packed. He throws his keys on the counter and trudges down the hall to his room where he flops down onto his bed. There he stays as he tries to muster the will to begin packing his belongings. After listening to several songs, he finally gets up with a groan. _I'll pack my books first and then clothes._ He does exactly this, putting only one book - Macbeth \- in his backpack, and looks around his room realizing that only his furniture and posters were left. _Is that really all I own?_ he wonders. He huffs out a laugh. “Well I suppose that makes it easier on me in the long run.” Virgil moves his few boxes out into the living room and then raids the fridge, only to find that there is really no food left, as he's usually too anxious to make a trip to the store; he then proceeds to eat dry cereal by the handful for dinner, as per the usual. 

The next morning, Virgil is rudely awoken by loud voices. “Aughhh, no, it's Saturday,” he mumbles sleepily, burrowing back under his covers while sticking out one hand to turn off his alarm. Several seconds later he realizes (a) there is no alarm and (b) he hasn't woken up to voices in who knows how long. _What on earth is going on?_ he wonders, slipping out of bed and heading toward the kitchen. As he enters, he trips over a box. _A box? Why is there a- ohhh. Moving day. Right. Well this should be fun._ After his revelation, Virgil goes to change and throw the last of his belonging into his backpack. After doing so, he once again heads toward the commotion. It turns out to be several movers and his uncle Remy. “Heyyy Virge!” he greets, sipping from his ever present Starbucks. “I still looove the purple bangs, but we seriously need to get you a touch up hun.” “Hey Remy,” Virgil grins. “And yeah, you should totally just take me home with you, I've needed a touch up for awhile.” One thing that excited Virgil about this move was the fact that his new house would only be a block away from his Uncle’s, which would be extremely convenient as he enjoys hanging out/spending the night with Remy. He and his uncle sit quietly, waiting for the movers to finish loading - which takes about another half hour - before getting into Remy’s car and heading to the Storms’ new house. 

Virgil sleeps for most of the two-and-a-half-hour drive, waking up only when he feels his hood get pulled down. As he opens his eyes he turns to glare blearily at his uncle, who only grins at him from behind his ever present aviators. “We'll be there in about five minutes hun.” Virgil huffs in response and turns to look out the window. They are driving down a street in a neighborhood, a fairly nice neighborhood Virgil notices. The houses are all unique and look well-kept. He stares as he sees in one yard a boy who looks to be about his age with curly ginger hair fling himself into a nicely raked pile of leaves. He turns his head as they go by to follow the image and manages to see the boy pop his head back up out of the leaves before he is out of sight. He notices absently that he had glasses and a large, happy smile. _I wonder if he’ll go to my new school? Oh no. What if other people my age live near me too… what if my neighbors are friendly and try to talk to me?!_ The car stopping brings Virgil out of his slightly panicked thoughts. “We’re here!” Remy sings happily, turning to Virgil. “Welcome to the new casa de Storm!” “More like casa de me,” Virgil mutters too quietly for his uncle to hear, “I'm the only one that's ever gonna be here.” “Yay.” He deadpans, loud enough for Remy to hear, before exiting the vehicle. He goes around back to grab some boxes, and then heads toward the house while taking it in. It is painted white and has some red brickwork. It looks to be slightly smaller than his previous house, which Virgil really didn't mind. He proceeds to the front door where he has to wait for Remy to unlock it. After it opens, he heads in and looks around. After taking in the plain white walls and light wood floors and their furniture that had already been moved in, he heads toward what he thinks are the bedrooms. He walks into the first room he finds and plops the boxes he's carrying onto the bed. Remy sticks his head in and asks, “Hey boo, how's it going? Do you need me to stay?” “No thanks uncle Remy, I'm just gonna grab the last of my boxes and take a nap I think.” “Okeydokey, if you say so! I'll leave the ones in the car on the driveway for you. Remember you can call me if you need anything.” With those words he heard his uncle walks back down the hall and close the door behind him. Only to, seconds later, hear the front door open again and his uncle yell “I'M LEAVING YOU COOKIES BECAUSE YOU'RE SKINNY AS A STICK AND I'M SURE NOT PROPERLY TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF.” He smiles to himself as he hears the door slam again. After a few minutes he musters the will to go outside and pick up the rest of the boxes from the driveway his uncle had left, but not before carefully peeking outside to ensure that none of his new neighbors are outside waiting to talk to him. After rewarding himself for his bravery with some cookies he found in the on the counter, he heads, once again, back to his new room and flops down on the bed, pulling his headphones up and slowly drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta da.


	2. New School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for his first day. Yay.

After a long, boring, anxiety-filled Sunday, Virgil wakes up to his alarm early Monday morning. He groans, pulling the covers back over his head briefly. _You’re going to go to a new school and be the weird, shunned one again. No one is going to like you. You're gonna mess it all up. You'll never be good enough- _He rips the covers off his head before propping himself up and grabbing his phone. He groans again as he sees the date. He hauls himself out of bed, attempting to ignore the voices in his head. Trudging to the pile of unopened boxes in the corner, he yanks out his black jeans, shirt, and hoodie. He goes through his brief morning routine, taking care to add extra eye shadow - he was going to need to intimidate as many people as possible to avoid him today - and then proceeding to travel to the kitchen where he finishes off the last of the remaining cookies. He then regretfully goes to retrieve his backpack before heading outside to sit on the driveway and wait for his ride. Just a few minutes later, Remy’s car pulls up. He rolls the window down and chunks a set of keys at Virgil. “Sorry hun, forgot to give those to you on Saturday. Now hop in. Let's get you to school.” Virgil smiles and goes to lock the door before clambering into the front seat. “So how're ya feeling about your first day Virge?” Virgil shrugs, “Eh.” “Ah, yes, that's a wonderful description of your mood I'm sure.” “Eh,” Virgil repeats, smirking. “Ok, fine, don't talk to me,” Remy huffs, reaching over to turn on the radio. The remaining fifteen minutes of the ride was silent except for the radio. They pull up to the school and Virgil takes a deep breath, grabbing the straps of his backpack tightly. He grips the car door handle and pulls, stepping out into the concrete. “Have a good day Virge!” Remy waves before pulling away. Virgil waves back and then turns to head into the school, and really, he can't be blamed for what happens next. As he's turning, he catches sight of a flash of red, and the next thing he knows, he's been bowled over. As he sits up, holding his elbow, he makes eye contact with the hottest guy he's ever seen. The Hot Guy™️ gasps dramatically and exclaims, “Good heavens I am so sorry! But, really, it looks like you just fell for me! Roman Prince, at your service, and I can be your Prince Charming!” As Virgil stares up at the hand extended to him and the glittering smile that goes with it, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, this new school year might actually different, and by different, he means interesting. Very interesting.__

____

Virgil tries to steady his breathing as he sits hunched over on a desk in his first period. Why why WHY was he so stupid?! He literally just got here and he's already making enemies. His breathing speeds up again as he thinks about how he got here. The Hot Guy™️ had looked down at him, blinding him with that glaring smile, and Virgil, hopelessly overwhelmed, gay Virgil, knocked his hand aside and stood up on his own. “I don't need a Prince charming, thanks very much,” he spat, “so move along Princey and watch where you're going next time dumbass.” He promptly whirled around and definitely didn't catch sight of the disappearing smile on Hot Guy™️'s face. And it definitely didn't make him feel bad, not at all. So Virgil sprinted to his first period, was the first there, and promptly sat down on top of a desk near the wall to hyperventilate and rethink and regret his entire life. Virgil attempts to take a deep breath. _4-7-8. C’mon, calm down before anyone else gets here. Everyone will think you’re weird again._ A few minutes pass, and Virgil feels relieved as he starts to get himself under control. Just in time too, as who he assumes is the teacher walks in and gives him an odd look. That's when Virgil realizes: he's still on top of the desk. He quickly slides down into the chair, pulling up his hood as his face flushes red. _Well, I guess my first 20 minutes at school can't really get any worse,_ he thinks to himself wryly. 

The first half of Virgil’s day can be summed up in one word: boring. If he's feeling creative: deathly boring. The only interesting thing is that this school seems to have all the weirdos. There’s a kid in his first and second period that wears a tie. What kind of self-respecting junior wears a tie?! So basically he spent the morning people watching and introducing himself whenever a teacher asked him to - which without fail nearly set him off into a panic attack. As he heads in what he thinks is the direction of the cafeteria, he hears a familiar, loud voice nearby.  
“I'm telling you, he just slapped my hand away like it was the most disgusting thing he's ever seen!” “Aw it's ok Ro! Maybe he's just shy!” “No, he hates me I'm sure of it.” “Roman, you are being dramatic. You met this person for the first time today, and although your first few moments of meeting were certainly less than deal, they did not garner enough information for him to acquire a hatred of you. And likewise, your meeting and short conversation with him were not sufficient for you to accurately detail his attitude toward you.” “Sure, whatever Specs.”  
Hearing this conversation between whom he now knew to be Hot Guy™️ and presumably his friends, Virgil quickly backtracks, not wanting confrontation or an awkward situation. He walks rapidly back down the hallway he came from and waits around a corner to see where the group heads. “But how can he hate me?!” “Roman, there is no way of knowing whether or not he hates you.” “But he-” “Ok, Roman I'm sure he doesn't hate you. But if it bothers you this much just find him and make him your friend! Logan, you're right, but try to be nice, ok? Now let’s go eat lunch. I brought Crofters and sprinkles.” As the exclamations of pleasure and approval at the last statement fade, Virgil heads in the opposite direction, deciding that, really, who needs lunch anyway?

After spending a peaceful half hour exploring the library, Virgil sets out to find his next class before the after lunch rush. He finds it with ease, much to his relief, but he isn't the first one there. Sitting in a desk with a book is a boy with curly ginger hair and freckles and glasses that seems familiar. It's not until he looks up and graces Virgil with a blindingly happy smile that displays his dimples that he realizes this is the kid he saw jumping in leaves. He can't help himself, and lets out a small snort of laughter. If possible, the kid's smile grows even larger at that and he jokes good-naturedly, “I know I'm funny looking but come on!” Virgil quickly tried to explain, but Patton just waved him off exclaiming, “Oh it’s alright! I was just joking! Nice to meet you! My name is Patton Hart!” He offers his hand and Virgil hesitates a few seconds before taking it. “Virgil Storm.” As soon as Virgil’s hand is within his, Patton yanks him forward and Virgil yelps as he falls into a hug. “It really is great to meet you and I just know we’ll be great friends! If you have any questions, I’d be happy to help!” Patton pulls back as he talks, not at all phased by Virgil’s lack of reciprocation to his hug. He waves and walks away. Virgil quickly pulls both his hood and headphones back up and watches Patton go around the now full classroom. He greets EVERYONE. Hand shakes here, high fives there, a nod and grin in that direction, some hugs to that side and kind words in all directions.Virgil feels slightly overwhelmed just watching the show of human interaction and is quite grateful when the teacher calls the class to order a few minutes later.

As he tries to quickly exit the class, Virgil feels a hand gently grab his arm. He pulls away but turns to see who it is, and is surprised when he once again sees Patton. “So sorry to bother you again, but I thought that maybe you would like to meet some of my friends!” “Oh, umm,” Virgil hesitated but felt his resolve crumble as Patton gave him puppy dog eyes. “Yeah sure I guess,” he concedes, giving a weak smile. “You just made me the happiest guy in the neighborHOOD. You’re very sweet, so c’mon I’ll take you to your next class so you won’t bee late.” Patton grabs his hand and Virgil only realizes once he had been dragged halfway down the hallway that his hood was still up and Patton had just made two puns. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

Amazingly, Patton happened to also be in his fifth and sixth hour classes, which he seemed to be ecstatic about. He also would not stop with the freaking puns. At one point, Virgil’s pencil broke and Patton offered him a new one saying that “Writing with a pencil that has a broken tip is pointless!” Virgil was actually fairly impressed. On the way to sixth hour - English - Patton turns to him excitedly and tells him that his two best friends are in the same class as them. Virgil immediately begins to feel sick and his excitement for the only class he might actually have enjoyed died. Virgil thinks that Patton, bless his Hart, notices, and he begins to tell even more jokes. “Hey, What do you call a storm that doesn’t come to fruition? A mist opportunity! Why do people like storm watching so much? The lightning is quite striking! Do you make coffee much?” Virgil pauses, confused at the break in the jokes. “I guess I do yeah,” he shrugs. “I guess you could say that there’s a Storm brewing pretty often then!” Patton practically glows with happiness as Virgil breaks out into chuckles, quickly bringing up his hoodie sleeve to hide his growing smile. “Oh don’t hide your smile,” Patton says quickly, “I mean, did the sun just come through the Storm? Because I’ve been blinded!” They reach the classroom and Virgil turns his head to hide his large grin, only to stop dead in the doorway as he sees that the Hot Guy™️ is in his class… _Well crap,_ he thinks.

He moves to sit on the other side of the room, but Patton grabs his hand again and pulls him TOWARD the Hot Guy™️. _ABORT ABORT ABORT!_ his mind screams. He follows his new and only friend (who will probably not be his friend for much longer to be honest), hunching down into his hoodie, hoping not to be noticed. Only to feel his anxiety and panic peak as Patton stops _RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM OH DEAR GOD WHERE IS THE NEAREST EXIT._ He realizes too late that the three voices he heard around lunch time must have been these three, and his stomach sinks. “Roman, Logan, I would like you to meet a new best friend of mine, Virgil Storm. We’ve had all of our afternoon classes together so far, isn’t that great?” Patton chirps cheerfully. A boy who Virgil hadn’t noticed in his panic glanced up and offered a quick “Salutations” before going back to whatever book he is reading. But Virgil had eyes only for Roman, who had yet to look up. “Lovely to meet you. Any friend of Patton’s is a friend of-” Roman cut off his kind greeting as he finally raised his head and made eye contact with Virgil, his mouth falling open. “You!” he exclaims, standing up, shoving his chair out with a screech that makes Virgil flinch and pointing at him. “‘You’ who?” Patton glances between them, brow furrowed and clearly confused. “‘You’ him,” Roman attempts to clarify. “This boy,” he begins in a loud voice, dramatically bringing his hand to his heart, “refused my gracious offer of help today when we collided rather ungracefully.” “Whoa there,” Virgil cuts in sharply, glaring determinedly at the red-haired male. “I don’t think we so much collided as you fucking ran me over drama queen,” Virgil spat, ignoring Patton’s exclamation of “Language!” His frustration that this jerk had made him so worried all day finally ran over. He ducked into empty halls whenever he saw a flash of red for goodness sake! Roman made an offended noise. “You appeared out of nowhere and I was running late! I even took the time to offer help." Roman sticks his nose in the air and points accusingly again. “You rejected for no real reason. It was a peace offering and a princely action.” Virgil snorts derisively. “You call that a peace offering? It’s actually called a common courtesy. And I’m so sorry to have taken up so much of your time, All Important One,” he sneers sarcastically. “Now, now kiddos, how about we both say sorry and agree to be friends,” Patton chides, as though he expects this to be enough. They glare at each other for a few seconds longer, but under Patton’s suddenly stern gaze they both break. Roman sighs first. “Fine, I will attempt to be friends with Marilyn Morose just for you Patton,” he says in what is clearly supposed to be perceived as a gracious manner. Virgil follows, simply mumbling a noncommittal “yeah, sure Pat.” This seems to be enough and Patton breaks out into his characteristic smile and turns to the boy reading. “Hel-Lo! Hey is that book about anti-gravity? Because you can’t seem to put it down!” At this, Logan looks up. “No Patton,” he sighs. “I am reading The Count of Monte Cristo as it is present on our assigned reading list for this class.” The teacher calls the class to order, and Virgil settles into the seat next to Roman with displeasure and attempts to ignore him for the rest of the period.


	3. Another great day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's second day. It'll be great. Obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter woo

The bell rings and Virgil purposefully takes an unnecessary amount of time to pack his bag, allowing Roman to swing his bag onto his shoulder and walk out of the room with a flourish and a swagger without looking at him. Patton waits expectantly for him, no doubt thinking they share last hour as well. “Oh, Pat, I have to go to the office for last hour.” “Oh, ok.” Patton looks crestfallen, but then he perks up. “But I can walk you there!” Virgil smiles the smallest of smiles. “Sure Pat.” They walk to the office with Logan following them, his nose still in his book. Patton waves as they leave Virgil behind. “See you later!” Virgil gives a two-fingered salute and strolls into the office. “Do you know where I can find the counselor?” he asks the receptionist politely. “Through that door,” she says, pointing and smiling nicely. Virgil offers her a smile that he’s sure looks more like a grimace and moves to the door she indicated. He opens it and sees a man with pink hair sitting in a chair. As he moves in further, he is astounded at the amount of toys and stuffed animals around the room. He spots Steven Universe merch and his lips quirk. “Ah I see you like my collection,” the pink-haired man smiles excitedly. He holds out his hand. “My name is Emile Picani and you must be Virgil Storm. It is lovely to meet you. Now, I just have one question for you: How are you?” “I’m alright I suppose,” Virgil admits, considering he hadn’t been beat up yet. They ended up spending most of the session simply talking about their day and small things, such as their interests. This continued until a knock comes on the door and Remy enters. “Hey gurrrrl. The nice lady out there said you were in here and- oh well hello there. I’m Remy.” Remy suddenly notices Picani and promptly puts on a flirtatious grin. Virgil inwardly groans. This was just what he needed; his uncle was going to attempt to seduce his counselor. “Virgil didn’t tell me he had such an attractive counselor.” Remy lowers his ever present sunglasses in a show of checking him out. “How sweet of you!” Picani simply smiles happily. “Ok,” Virgil says, standing up, “we’re leaving now. Bye Dr. Picani.” “Oh please, call me Emile. And it was lovely to meet you Virgil. And you Remy.” “Not as lovely as you Doctor.” Remy winks and saunters out the door. This time Virgil audibly groans as Remy fans himself. “Phew, I think I may need counselling now.” “You have got to be kidding.” “Not in the least. Did you see that smile? And he’s a doctor. I’m definitely pursuing this,” he says, as serious as Virgil had ever seen him. Virgil holds up his hands. “Just don’t involve me.” “No promises,” Remy sings as he strides toward the car. _Well,_ Virgil thinks, _my day wasn’t bad, but it was eventful and long, to say the least._

Upon arriving at his new home, Virgil realizes he doesn’t want go into the empty house. His hesitation must have shown because Remy simply puts the car in reverse, pulls out, and heads to his own house. “So,” Remy begins, turning down the radio, “you absolutely have to tell me how your day went. I'm just dying to know.” Virgil gives an awkward shrug. “I mean, it was ok. It might be better than my other school.” “Mm, well from what I've heard it can't be hard to trump that shithole.” Hiding a grin, Virgil agrees. Suddenly, Remy snaps his fingers. “I just remembered! So ya know how your hair is lacking its vibrant, fabulous, purple? Yeah, we're gonna fix that. I got dye and everything.” “That sounds great Rem,” Virgil offers, voice - for once - free of sarcasm. They arrive at Remy’s house and upon getting to the door, his uncle realizes after patting down all his pockets that he doesn't have his house keys. And that is how Virgil finds himself climbing a tree - maybe falling out a few times if he's being honest - and clambering in through a second story window. Remy is, of course, no help at all. He simply alternates between sipping his Starbucks, yelling out random, unhelpful directions, and wolf-whistling. As he sets foot in the house, Virgil spits out leaves and combs his fingers through his hair, attempting to dislodge some twigs before walking down the stairs to open the front door. As the door opens, Remy greets him with a somewhat ashamed grin. “So, like, um, the keys may have actually been in my jacket pocket this whole time, but I helped you get some exercise so you're welcome,” he rambles as he brushes by. “You've got to be kidding me,” Virgil groans, facepalming. “Nope,” his uncle replies, popping the p. “But, on the bright side, a dude your age was totally checking you out.” “No, he probably wasn't,” Virgil growls, “He was probably thinking ‘What the fuck is he doing?’ and wondering at my astonishing lack of athletic talent.” Remy waves a hand. “Whatever. He was hot anyway. OK,” he suddenly yells, clapping his hands, “LET’S GET TO DYING.” “I'M ALWAYS DOWN TO DIE,” Virgil yells back, making finger guns. Remy chuckles. “That's my boi.” So, Virgil spends the evening getting his hair redyed and ends up online shopping with his uncle. “Those boots are totally cute.” “I think they’re more your style Rem,” Virgil says thoughtfully, taking another bite of pizza. Their discussion continues until Remy simply buys the boots so that they can just try them, and they start the movie IT. After it ends, Remy checks his phone, and suddenly yells, “SHIT IT’S ONE A.M. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. GO THE FUCK TO BED!” Virgil continues to idly scroll through tumblr as he replies, “It’s fine. I would probably be up this late or later anyway if I were home.” Remy squints at him, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “That really is no bueno. At least pretend to go to bed then so that I can tell myself I’m a responsible adult.” “Fine,” Virgil sighs, rolling of the couch and ambling up the stairs. “You’ll never be a responsible adult!” he yells over his shoulder. “You’re not wrong!” his uncle yells back.

The next morning, Virgil wakes up to his uncle yelling that they were supposed to leave five minutes ago. He throws himself out of bed, shoves on clothes, and flies down the stairs. They leave only ten minutes behind schedule. On the way, Remy - once again - snaps his fingers as he remembers something. “Oh yeah, so your mom will be home sometime tonight and I think she has something to tell you. And your dad is picking you up after school so there’s that.” Virgil is immediately worried and suspicious. He wants to ply him with questions, but they have just pulled up and the bell is supposed to ring in a minute. “Thanks for ruining my day,” he groans, getting out of the car. “Just wanted to warn you!” he says cheerfully, waving as he drives off. Virgil, to his chagrin, has to run and manages to get to first period just as the bell rings. He self consciously moves to an empty seat as all the other students stare. _Another great day,_ he thinks to himself wryly as he sinks down in his seat. 

Virgil spends his morning in a state of minor panic. Why on earth would his parents be home tonight? And at the same time no less? He can’t remember the last time he saw his father, and his mother was never home for over eight hours. Tonight will be volatile, he decides grimly and begins to brace himself for the worst. He does notice that one of Patton’s friends - Logan right? - was the kid with a tie he saw yesterday in his first and second periods. He’s content to avoid speaking with the smart-looking student, but is caught staring. His cheeks flush and his eyes widen, but Logan simply meets his eyes and gives him a nod before returning to his book. He spends the rest of the morning avoiding him. He also determines that he doesn’t want to brave the lunch room when that time comes around, so he once again skip lunch and heads to the library. Patton seems excited to see him and his afternoon goes fairly smoothly, especially since he and the “Prince” have settled on ignoring each other. He says goodbye to Patton and goes to the counselor’s office where they just talk about cartoons again. When his session is over he goes outside to sit on the curb and wait for his ride. He waits. And he waits. And he waits. He finally gives up and just calls Remy. “Hey Virge, what’s up?” “I need a ride.” “Where are you?” “At school.” “Still?!” his uncle sounds surprised. “Shit.” he hears his uncle quietly swear. “He didn’t come huh.” When Virgil doesn’t reply, he sighs and promises he’ll be there in a few minutes. So Virgil waits some more, but this time someone actually comes. Remy shows up, as promised, and Virgil silently climbs in. The ride is silent and tense, with Remy gripping the wheel tightly, his face expressionless. As they pull up to the Storms’ home, he turns to Virgil. “You can come home with me if you really want to. We can come up with some excuse.” As much as he wants to go with him, Virgil replies in the negative. “I should see what they want,” he says quietly, head down. “I’ll keep my phone near me, call if you want to be picked up.” Virgil doesn’t reply and opens the door to get out. “Virgil.” His uncle stops him. He pulls off his sunglasses and looks him in the eyes. “It’ll be ok. I promise.” Virgil keeps his face carefully blank and acknowledges him with a nod. He closes the car door and goes up to the house. He unlocks the door, puts his hand on it, takes a deep breath and pushes it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be happy to hear what you think


	4. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some development occurs in Virgil's household. School, in turn, is put on hold for a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I won't promise not to take that long again, because I would be lying. But I hope you enjoy.

He enters to a yelling match. As he stands in the hallway, he tries to decide if he wants to interfere or just go upstairs. As he hears a particularly loud yell, he opts for the latter. Virgil sneaks up the stairs, unnoticed by the two that stand screaming in the kitchen. He curls up on his bed, headphones on and volume up all the way and stays there. He checks every now and then to see if they’ve stopped, and finally he hears a door slam and then silence. He slowly pulls his headphones down and peeks out the window. His father gets in his car and pulls away. _Fuck you too,_ Virgil thinks. _I hope I never see you again._ He doesn’t know that his wish may almost come true. He jumps and whirls around from his spot at the window when he hears a knock at his door. He doesn’t even get a chance to say “come in” before the door opens. His mother looks in. “Hey Virge-” He scowls at the nickname. Only Remy is allowed to call him that. “I have something to talk to you about.” She lets herself in and comes to sit on his bed. He fights down his need to run away _(Fight or flight instincts, what a bitch)_ or get her out of his space. She puts her hand on his shoulder, but at the look on his face, she quickly removes it and puts her hands in her lap nervously. She continues, “So, your father and I find that we just don’t really agree on much anymore and we have both changed a lot since we got married.” _Maybe that’s because you literally never see each other,_ Virgil thinks to himself, unimpressed. “So we’ve decided that we should get a divorce and we were trying to decide who gets custody.” “Oh so you were fighting over who had to get saddled with me. Did you draw the short straw?” he snarks. His mother _(No, she doesn’t deserve that title. I’ll call her birth giver from now on,_ he decides) looks surprised and uncomfortable at his outburst. “No! Of course not! It’s just, we’re both busy, hun. Neither of us really have any ties to this town-” “What about your brother?” Virgil interrupts again. His birth giver looks more irritated. “What about him? He’s irresponsible and a bad influence.” Virgil scoffs. “At least he was an influence. And he keeps his promises.” “Well,” the birth giver huffs, “since you insist on being difficult, I’ll tell you outright. Your father and I are getting a divorce and one of us has to take you. Whoever it is, you’ll have to move to live with them wherever they are.” Virgil stares at her, face carefully blank. “No.” “Excuse me?” she splutters. “Oh right. No, thank you,” he amends. “You can’t just say no.” “But I just did,” he replies, pulling out his phone. Birth giver looks annoyed. “What other options do you have?” she asks, obviously fed up with Virgil and his sass. “Well,” Virgil begins, looking up from his phone, “Uncle Remy says I can live with him and he just talked to his friend who’s a lawyer who says he can sue for custody based on your negligence.” Now the birth giver stares. “We have not been-” she starts. Virgil, with his phone out once again, clears his throat to interrupt before he reads, “‘Negligence. Failure to use reasonable care, resulting in damage or injury to another.’” He glances up, fixing her with a look of contempt. “So I suppose you not being home even once a week, leaving me without a phone totally didn’t cause issues that time I got beat up and had a broken arm and ribs and just barely made it home and couldn’t call anyone and didn’t get to the doctor for a month. Or the multiple times I ran out of food and money to buy food with and didn’t eat for days at a time. Or the times I got locked out and couldn’t get in for three days or more. Obviously, all those things were child me’s fault. I should have gotten a JOB as a SEVEN YEAR OLD,” he finishes, yelling and shaking with both nerves and anger. The birth giver looks livid and moves her arm back, as though to hit him, causing him to lean back out of instinct. She steadies herself before saying with contempt, “Fine. We'll give your Uncle custody. We didn’t want you anyway. We never planned on a child and is it really our fault you ended up being so difficult?” She stands and walks out, leaving his door open. He gets up to close the door and locks it, sinking down against it and wrapping his arms around himself. He ends up having one of his worst panic attacks to date. At some point Remy arrives and tries the door. “Shit it’s locked,” he mumbles to himself. “Ok Virge,” he says louder, “I’m going to sit outside the door and I need you to listen to me. I’m gonna count and you follow along, ok? 1-2-3-4…” And so Remy counts as Virgil gasps for air. After what seems like hours, the breaths get easier. Finally, Virgil reaches up to unlock the door and scoots away so it can open. Remy rushes in heading toward Virgil before pausing. “Can I touch you?” In response Virgil holds out his arms and Remy sweeps him into a tight embrace. “You really had me worried there hun,” he sighs, petting his nephew’s hair.

That night, Remy makes the executive decision to keep Virgil home from school on the grounds that he “had a massive flippin panic attack and gurl, you need to sleep for flippin ever.” Virgil - after some grumbling - agreed, too tired to argue. 

After waking up the next morning feeling drained and tired, he curls up in his bed again, pulling the covers over his head and wishing he never had to leave. He must have fallen back asleep, because the next thing he knows, he’s waking up to his phone buzzing. Sleepily reaching out, Virgil picks it up and squints at the alert. 

Unknown number: Hi! I just wanted to say we missed you at school and are hoping you'll be back soon!  
Unknown number: I got your number from the lady in the office.  
Unknown number: This is Patton by the way!

At the last text, Virgil finally cracks a smile. He sends a quick reply, acknowledging the concern and then rolls out of bed. He pads into the kitchen silently and opens the fridge, only to find nothing within. Closing the door and letting out a groan, he rests his head against the refrigerator. _It's too early for this,_ he decides and goes back to bed. When he wakes up again, it's to the smell of food. Virgil checks his phone and grimaces at the time: 6:30 p.m. _Whoops._ He then blunders toward the smell. He is met with the sight of Remy sitting on the couch, feet propped up, phone in hand, eating a slice of pizza directly from the box. Virgil immediately does grabby hands and makes a beeline toward the box to snatch up a piece for himself. He then sits down on the floor and eats, feeling more content than he has in a long time, despite the recent turbulent events. After finishing, he continues to sit in silence, eventually closing his eyes and leaning back against the couch. Sometime later, Remy speaks up. “So are you feeling up to going back to school tomorrow?” Virgil makes a face and shrugs without opening his eyes. Remy waits a beat. “Welllll, I'm gonna have you go, but tell me if you think you absolutely can't. Now go and get some more sleep, you look like you need, which I don't know how that's even possible as you got almost twenty hours but whatever.” He pokes Virgil, who then gets up and waves as he leaves the room. He collapses back into bed after setting an alarm and is asleep within moments. 

He awakes the next morning to his alarm and finds multiple texts from the number he now knows to be Patton. Virgil feels a grin spread across his face as he reads the texts with the astounding amount of exclamation marks and emojis. After reading through them and simply replying that he’ll see him at school today, he gets up and prepares for his day. His uncle is waiting downstairs and they drive to the school. Before Virgil gets out of the car, Remy puts a hand on his arm and looks him dead in the eye. “If you need anything, call me. Don’t hesitate.” Virgil rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t hesitate-” “Oh yes you would,” Remy interrupts, “ You’d try to rationalize and either decide you don’t need to call or do it too late.” Virgil shifts uncomfortably as he recognizes the truth of his uncle’s words. Remy lowers his sunglasses. “So, don’t hesitate, mhm?” he says playfully. “Yeah, sure,” Virgil mumbles, tilting his head down to hide his face behind his hair, before muttering a farewell and closing the door. _More school. Yay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think if you'd like.


	5. Settling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's life moves along a little bit, and he gets some interesting news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This is mostly a filler chapter. There should be another up fairly soon. I refuse to give an actual estimate because I don't trust myself to keep it :).

As soon as Virgil walks into the building, he gets tackled by a blur. He panics for a moment before he recognizes the curls, at which point he relaxes and awkwardly wraps his arms around the excited Patton. “Kiddo! We missed you so much? Are you ok?” “Yeah Pat, I’m good. I was just sick for a day.” Patton pulls back slightly and pouts at him. “Well that sucks. What are the odds? Getting sick in the first week of school?” Virgil is about to reply with an awkward and no doubt unconvincing “Um, yeah, crazy.” However, a voice speaks up from behind Patton saying, “The odds are not that astronomical. The average high school is a veritable cesspool of germs.” Virgil starts and peeks behind his (maybe) friend. He relaxes slightly when he recognizes Logan and sends a two fingered salute in his direction to which Logan replies with a minuscule nod before turning to Patton. “Class is due to begin in exactly five minutes and you average precisely three to acquire you necessities, so I recommend we begin preparations now.” Patton turns a blinding smile on the other, and Virgil thinks he sees Logan blush. _Are they a thing?_ he wonders. Patton waves at Virgil and skips away, Logan following after he clears his throat, straightens his tie and sends a another nod at Virgil. _No, they aren’t,_ Virgil decides, watching their receding backs. But they certainly will be eventually. 

Virgil arrives at his first class and picks a seat. Logan walks in just as the bell rings looking harried and ruffled. He glances around and scowls at the guy who is sitting in his normal seat before catching sight of Virgil and stalking back to sit next to him. They make eye contact and a silent agreement passes between them. They don’t speak another word to each other. 

The remainder of Virgil’s day consists of Patton hugs and chatter, Logan and his shared silence, and the normal boring of school. Oh, and, of course, an icy silence between him and the boy he’d dubbed Princey. At this rate, all of their shared classes were shaping up to be miserable. Too anxious to do anything about it and still slightly bitter, Virgil gives his fair share of dirty looks. 

He heads to the counselor for his seventh hour; they once again spend the time simply getting acquainted - for which Virgil is immensely grateful. Remy picks him up and shares a few flirty remarks with Picani before they drive to his house. On the way, a thought occurs to Virgil. “Hey are we going to pick up my stuff from the house and move it to your house?” Remy gives a little smirk. “I may have already brought it all to my house,” he singsongs. “I don’t have to go back,” Virgil whispers to himself in realization, “I don’t ever have to go back.” Virgil can’t control the large grin that slowly spreads over his face. He smiles for the rest of the ride home.

The next few weeks progress much the same. There were a few sticky spots where he and Remy had to meet with his parents to get some papers signed. They had turned their noses up at him when they first saw their son, and from then on ignored him. Virgil had shrunk into himself. Obviously, he knew they were horrible, but it still hurt. After that Remy had taken him to a music store and let him pick out a guitar to cheer him up. He had always loved music, but his first guitar had been broken by some kids at his old school and he was afraid to ask for another, so it had been awhile. He spent every spare minute from then on practicing and playing, sometimes singing if he was feeling especially good.   
As for his friends at school, he and Logan had grown closer as they seemed to share a sense of realism that the other two lacked. Patton was easily the best friend he had ever had. As for Roman, the two still didn’t see eye to eye. What had begun as icy silence, grew into verbal fights. They threw barbed insults back and forth, always trying to take the other down. Things had been getting worse, even with Patton’s and, eventually, Logan’s intervention. Until, one fateful day, their English teacher announced that the whole class would have to participate in the school play and it would count as their final grade. Virgil and Logan had shared equally incredulous looks while Patton squealed and Roman smirked. They were entering his home turf after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments are welcome! Thanks for reading


	6. Play Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil makes some headway in his friendships and preparations for the dreaded play begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, an update! Sorry for the wait, I'm the worst I know.

Virgil begrudgingly trudges into the theater, chucking his backpack on one of the seats and flopping into another himself. Patton, who entered alongside him, is humming as he settles into the chair next to Virgil and excitedly bounces as he rambles on and on about the play. Logan comes in soon thereafter and settles down with the inevitable book. The relative peace is soon broken. The theater door bursts open, and Roman enters, singing at the top of his lungs. Virgil's face twists into an expression of disgust and disdain as Logan lets out a long suffering sigh, clearly resigning himself to a miserable experience. The first day is utter chaos. It consists of the teacher first asking the class at large for proposals on what play to perform. This, as it turns out, was not a well thought out plan. Apparently, a class of 30 high schoolers generally have little to no knowledge of plays and, even the few that do, don't care. Virgil falls heavily into both categories. He thinks that vocal music and movies should stay separate, thank you very much. And so the class yells and argues and is generally riotous for the majority of the long ( _much too long,_ Virgil thinks again with every new play suggested) period. Finally, the teacher seems to realize their mistake and declares that they will pick, to the great indignation of a select few students ( _ahem, Roman, ahem_ ). The class ends ( _Fucking FINALLY_ ) and Virgil practically sprints from the auditorium, eager to get to the quiet of Picani's room. 

After a session of talking about his parents and the joys they bring into his life, Virgil just wants to go home and curl up in his bed, and maybe play his guitar. _Yeah, that sounds nice,_ he thinks dreamily as he sits on the curb waiting for Remy. He's been learning a new song and struggling with some of the tougher notes due to his current lack of calluses. As he begins to calculate how long it will be until the perpetual stinging in his fingertips goes away again, he is suddenly startled out of his reverie as a hand descends upon his shoulder. He lets out a surprised squeak and shoots up, putting a healthy distance between him and the person, only to relax as he sees the surprised expression on Patton’s face. “Oops, sorry about that,” he says sheepishly, “ I didn't mean to startle you. You alright?” Virgil pretends to fix his hair as he gets his breath back before answering. “Uh, yeah, I'm good, I was just in my own little world,” he replies with a tight little smile that seems to appease Patton nonetheless. “Well you see, I was just thinking that we haven't really gotten to know each other very well because we haven't hung out much.” He pauses and Virgil takes this as a sign to make a quiet noise of agreement. The peppy boy continues with another smile. “So I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime! Logan's my neighbor so he comes over all the time and you could come over and spend the night too! Whaddaya think?” Frankly, Virgil considers the proposition to be both terrifying and heartfelt, which makes it difficult to refuse. He plans to say no, he really does, but as Patton turns his big, hopeful blue eyes on him, Virgil hears himself say, “That sounds cool Patton. How about Friday?” The next moment he's tackled in a hug and Patton sits next to him on the curb, talking his ear off about his plans until Virgil is saved by his uncle. As he gets into the car, Remy turns to him with a lazy grin. “So, what's got that kid so worked up?” “I said I'd spend the night at his house on Friday,” Virgil says flatly, as though just realizing it himself. _What have I gotten myself into?_ he thinks.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Virgil thinks again as he stands on Patton's porch, waving farewell to Remy. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Remy had asked multiple times, only for Virgil to repeat his determination over and over again. Taking a fortifying breath, he reaches out to ring the doorbell. The chime has barely sounded before the door is flung open and Virgil finds himself engulfed in a hug. He hesitantly returns the affectionate gesture and pats Patton's back as he waits awkwardly to be released. When Patton finally pulls away, he begins bouncing on his toes, his smile as bright as can be. “I can't believe you're here! I've been so excited and Logan won't admit it but he's excited too! C'mon! I'll show you the kitchen first!” Next follows a whirlwind tour, throughout which Virgil is put more at ease by Patton's genuine enthusiasm and happiness. By the time they finally reach Patton's room, Virgil has learned that they bought their couch 3 years ago, the nice China is never used except for birthdays, the forks are in the third drawer from the left, and the guest bedroom doubles as an office that Patton's father is supposed to use but that his mother has commandeered. Will he remember these things? Yes, because who remembers important stuff? Only things like this deserve permanent brain room, right? Patton opens the door, and they are greeted by Logan looking up from the book he's reading while perched cross legged on Patton's desk. Closing the book (which Virgil can see is Pride and Prejudice) with a snap, Logan pushes his glasses up and leans his elbows on his knees. "I apologize if Patton gave you the whole house tour, complete with backstory. I considered intercepting, but I thought it might dispel both his and your nervousness and help rid him of some energy." Doing his best to contain a snort of laughter, Virgil offers a thanks in reply. This sleepover thing may not be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for checking this out! Feel free to leave comments - suggestions or just screaming, all is appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are sporadic. Just a warning.


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